


fool

by glazed



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-13 17:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18945250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazed/pseuds/glazed
Summary: au. an unnamed future, mildly dystopian -- villanelle has a job but eve becomes the job





	1. Chapter 1

It was pouring when the giant rusty truck pulled up to the Medical Center. The Center was formerly a hotel, but so easily became recognizable as a hospital that Eve had stopped thinking of it as the “hospital,  née hotel” shortly after arriving in Ministry 5. That was over a year ago. 

 

The diesel engine hadn’t cut out yet; Eve wrinkled her nose with a frown, the fumes billowing around her place underneath the small overhang, protected from the lashing rainfall that pinged violently against the truck’s exterior. She knew whoever was inside the truck would be  _ soaked _ , the ventilation in the back nothing but crudely drilled holes all over: to prevent suffocation when the passengers were alive, to provide dispersal when not. 

 

Eve hoped they were alive today.

 

The truck and its drivers were roving sentries, a routinized patrol around Ministry 5’s perimeter. As far as Eve knew, the other Ministries had them as well, but she couldn’t say they functioned under the same commands. Did they bring back prisoners, stragglers, beggars? Did they bring back corpses, or not even? 

 

MI5’s patrol served to initially assess the threat level of the unassociated individuals. Sometimes they were killed on sight. The distinctly non-threatening were brought back for medical treatment, rehabilitation. The rest found themselves in a grey area: not yet guilty, not yet innocent. Eve was tasked with not only medically treating, but evaluating the undecideds. 

 

She had been surprised when Bill requested her to serve this particular role, especially after being within MI5’s walls only six months prior. Yes, she was a credentialed doctor from a nearby Ministry, but Bill trusted her almost too easily. They had a similar sense of humor; both could go from silly to serious at a pin’s drop, and Eve was committed to her role in MI5, could be kind and gentle with her patients but was able to let a steeliness come over when necessary. 

 

She glanced to her left. Kenny had silently stepped outside of the Medical Center to help her with the intake of whoever was in the back of the truck. He nodded at her slightly as they met eyes, she returned the nod. He was sweet and nervous, would always cart the deceased to the morgue, knowing Eve’s immense displeasure with the task when she was relegated to it.

 

The driver finally killed the engine and hopped down. “‘Allo,” A gruff greeting at Eve and Kenny before his boots trudged to the back of the truck, pulling the double doors open. 

 

The wave of decay hit Eve’s nose instantly. Kenny sighed, reaching for the stretcher waiting behind him, unrolling a body bag. Eve covered her face with a kerchief she pulled from her pocket. 

 

The patrolman glanced over at the doctors, noting their sudden morose. “Don’t worry, we got a live one, too.” He reached inside and tugged out a slight frame, drenched in rain water. They stumbled as their feet hit the pavement, their wrists bound in a biting zip tie.

 

Eve instinctually moved forward, grasping their upper arm to take them out of the patrol’s hand, their head still downcast. At Eve’s gentle touch, they slowly raised their chin. Eve found herself locking eyes with the woman, a bruise beginning to marble along her jawline, a bloody split bottom lip on the edges of Eve’s awareness. 

 

Eve let the kerchief fall away from her face, slowly. 

 

“Watch out for that one,” The patrol broke the spell, Eve looked over to him. “A bit mouthy,” He grunted before reaching back in the truck to unceremoniously dump the corpse onto Kenny’s awaiting stretcher. 

 

Eve looked back to the woman, her arm still around the blonde’s bicep. 

 

The captive was grimacing now, “Do your people always throw guests into the back of trucks with dead bodies?” 

 

Eve noticed the way she ground the words out around her teeth. “Are you in pain?” Eve’s eyes ran over the rest of her body now. She was hunched slightly, seemed to be cradling her right arm.

 

“Your strongman broke my arm. And gave me this,” She gestured her bound hands upward, to her mottled jaw. “And then took me for that very fun ride in the rain with a  _ corpse _ .” 

 

Eve offered her own grimace now. “I’m sorry. I’m Dr. Polastri, I can get you treated inside,” She nodded towards the front doors of the Medical Center. Eve hesitated, waiting for the woman’s consent.

 

The woman grunted in pain. “Lead the way, Dr. Polastri.”

 

__________

 

She was right, the patrol had broken her wrist. Eve suspected it was true, but performed the x-ray nonetheless. The fracture was blatant when she reviewed the film. 

 

When Eve asked her name, there was slight pause before she answered, “Villanelle.” 

 

Eve stilled herself, ruminating on the name for a moment too long.

 

Now Villanelle sat on a narrow exam table, arm held out gingerly as Eve began to apply the cast. She felt like her arm was a papier-mâché project. 

 

“Where are you from?” Eve didn’t look up, eyes focused on wetting the plaster strips and methodically layering them over Villanelle’s arm.

 

“Before the world turned to shit or after?” Villanelle seemed calmer now. Eve had given her a pain reliever. 

 

“Both,” Eve supplied.

 

“Before, my family was from Russia.”

 

Eve hummed in response. “And after the collapse?” Political, economic, and environmental; left unsaid at this point.

 

Villanelle looked out the window. “I haven’t stayed in one place long.”

 

“Do you make a habit of trespassing through Ministries? You must know their borders are strict.” 

 

Villanelle swallowed. “It was a last resort. I’m out of food, money...I have nothing.”

 

Eve finally looked up, gazing deeply into Villanelle’s eyes. It seemed like the truth. 

 

Or Villanelle was a very sincere liar.

 

__________

 

“You’ll stay in the hospital for now, until my evaluation is complete,” Eve was moving about Villanelle’s room, touching this and that. 

 

Villanelle was glassy eyed and cooperative, tucked under a scratchy but warm blanket in her hospital bed. Eve had given her more drugs, felt like she deserved it after the manhandling from the patrol.

 

“I have to keep the door locked from the outside, until we know you’re not a threat,” Eve informed. “But I start my rounds again at 9am, if you need anything.”

 

“And how do you know when I’m not a threat?” Villanelle’s speech was mildly slurred.

 

“After some questioning, after I get to know you...it doesn’t usually take long.” 

 

“Have you ever been wrong about someone, Dr. Polastri?” 

 

“Never.” Eve’s mouth curved upward momentarily, before she tucked it away, turning her back on her new patient. “Goodnight, Villanelle.”


	2. Chapter 2

“She has a broken wrist and is generally pretty banged up. Do you think you can have a word with the patrols? I understand they have a job to do, but this seems like it’s verging on unnecessary brutality…”

 

Eve was in Bill’s office, giving her debriefing of their new arrival. Bill was quietly sipping a lowball on the other side of his desk. He didn’t respond for several moments.

 

“Did you ask  _ why _ he broke her arm?” 

 

“Uh, well...no…” Eve stammered, frowning.

 

“Maybe there was good reason,” Bill took another swallow of his drink. “Be very vigilant, Eve. My correspondents say there is reason to believe other territories are making  _ moves _ . The Ministries’ cooperation with each other is already...tense. We don’t need any reason for a full-blown brawl.”

 

Eve nodded, silent in thought, before finally making her way home to her quiet and empty apartment.

 

__________

 

“Good morning, Dr. Polastri.”

 

“Morning,” Eve met Villanelle’s eyes as she pushed the door to her room open, instinctively grabbing the small wheeled stool and rolling to her bedside. “How’re you feeling today? How’s the pain in your wrist?”

 

“Mm, medium,” Villanelle curled her lip downward as she eyed her arm, twisting it a little to and fro. “Thank you for the cast, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to express my gratitude last night.”

 

Eve huffed out a humorless laugh, “It’s...my job. I mean, it’s no problem…” She took hold of Villanelle’s arm, gently inspecting the swelling, checking all of her fingers attached to the injured wrist. 

 

“You seem like a good doctor, though,” Villanelle furthered.  

 

Eve paused in her examination. She held Villanelle’s gaze. “Thank you,” Glanced back down to the wrist, in thought. “You seem in a better mood today.”

 

“Yeah well, having a pretty doctor treat your broken wrist is much better than having an ugly man break your wrist.” Villanelle was smirking now, veering on licentious. 

 

“How did that go down, by the way?” Eve ignored the comment, intentionally shoving away the slight flutter. “When did the encounter become physical?”

 

“I’m walking through the woods, I hear the click of a gun’s safety and before I know it, he’s screaming at me to get on my knees. I thought he was going to kill me, so I resisted,” Villanelle stated matter-of-factly.

 

“You didn’t know you were in Ministry 5’s territory?” Eve clarified.

 

“No. I was  _ starving _ . I was looking for fucking anything, a rabbit, a berry...not invisible, make believe lines that were established less than five years ago by some territorial arseholes.”

 

“So you’re anti-establishment? Would you even want a place in the Ministry if I offered you one?” Eve quirked her head.  

 

Villanelle paused, considered her tactic. “I belong to no one, I have nothing and no allegiances. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want somewhere safe to sleep at night.” 

 

“What could you offer if you became a resident of MI5?” Eve was making notes on her clipboard now, snippets of information from the conversation.

 

Another pause for consideration. Villanelle was staring at her doctor, intensely, as she thought about the question. “I’m good with my hands.” Eve swallowed and didn’t look up. “I’m a good problem solver. I’m strong. I know how to survive, usually,” Villanelle was looking at her cast now, idly. “I’m very adaptable,” She finished.

 

“Do you know anyone in any other Ministry?” Eve still hadn’t looked up from scratching down her notes.

 

“No.”

 

“Do you know anyone in other territories outside of the Ministries?”

 

“No.”

 

“Who do you know?” Eve finally looked up.

 

Villanelle met her gaze, unafraid. “Other travelers. Other people with no people. Sometimes there are makeshift camps for the nomadic types. You can trade, have a drink, buy a cheap roasted rat,” Villanelle shrugged. “It’s not always so bad, but it seems to be getting worse.” 

 

Eve nodded. She seemed satisfied with the answers. Villanelle was glad of that. “Yeah, that’s true of everywhere,” She stood up from her stool, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “I’ll get you some more painkillers, then I’m off to my rounds. I’ll check in again at the end of the day.”

 

__________

 

Villanelle was so  _ bored _ . 

 

If Konstantin had told her the first part of the assignment would be bed rest while a broken bone healed, she might not have accepted the money. But, at least there is Eve. Silver linings. And furthermore, Eve is her  _ evaluator _ , her ticket inside. It would be simple, once she was out of the hospital. The head doctor in her pocket, ideally in her bed, it should be easy to get to Bill Pargrave from there. 

 

Suddenly, the mission didn’t seem too boring. Seduce Eve. Get the intel. Eliminate anyone who got in her way.

 

__________

 

It had been a  _ long _ day. A compound fracture, a small child with the flu, a handful of MI5 residents who had been foraging on the border of the territory that had been fired on and sustained noncritical gunshot wounds. Eve knew this would only get more regular, more complicated and dangerous. 

 

She unlocked and pushed into Villanelle’s room with a sigh, the blonde upright and alert, seemingly expectant for her arrival. Villanelle raised an eyebrow, took in Eve’s form and demeanor. “You look tired, Dr. Polastri.” It was said with a bit of sympathy. 

 

Eve immediately slouched down onto her stool, another sigh as she flipped her pad open to her previous notes on Villanelle. “I am,” She admitted finally, glancing up to Villanelle’s awaiting gaze. 

 

“You don’t have to check on me if you’re too tired…” Villanelle dangled. 

 

“I do, though. Part of the job. My shift isn’t over yet.” 

 

“Are you the only doctor here?”

 

“No, no,” Eve waved the question away, like she was trying to wave her exhaustion away. “I have help. Kenny during the week, and another doctor works the weekends. It’s not all on me.” 

 

Villanelle nodded with a quiet hum. “You’re very valuable, though. A big asset.”

 

“It’s been helpful for me, yes. I at least have to worry a lot less about being killed. Nobody wants to intentionally off those of us with  _ actual _ medical experience.”

 

“How long have you been a doctor?”

 

“Ten years…” Eve suddenly came back to the situation, her patient questioning her and not the other way around. “You know, I’m supposed to be asking the questions mostly,” Her tone wasn’t nearly reprimanding enough, she knew it. 

 

Villanelle gave her a small smile. “I was trying to give you a break. Maybe let you forget you were still on the clock.”

 

Eve stilled, eyed Villanelle critically, silently.

 

“Have you killed?” 

 

Villanelle wasn’t expecting the conversation to shift in this direction, not yet, but she rushed to keep up. “Yes.”

 

“How many?” Eve’s face was emotionless again.

 

“Six.” Villanelle tried to find a crack.

 

“Why?” 

 

“They were bad men.” 

 

“Did you have to kill them?”

 

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be talking to me today,” Villanelle took pleasure in the obscured truth of the statement. 

 

“So you would have no problem killing again?” Eve was scribbling on the notepad now, not looking up.

 

“I have a strong survival instinct,” Villanelle supplied, watching Eve thoughtfully, eyes tracing the other woman’s curls.

 

“Would you describe yourself as loyal?” Eve switched the questioning quickly, probably a tactic.

 

“To myself, of course,” Villanelle smirked.

 

“But not to others,” Eve met her eyes again now.

 

“No one has really given me a reason to be loyal,” Villanelle mused, staring back.

 

Eve paused a few moments, her own smirk ghosting her lips before disappearing. “I appreciate the honesty. Most people in your position grovel at this point, swearing allegiance to the Ministry, promising their firstborn, you name it…” She leaned back, flipping her notepad shut, in a motion ending the formal questioning.   

 

Villanelle was smiling again. “I’m sorry Dr. Polastri, but I will not be giving you any babies,” An exaggerated wink at the doctor. 

 

Eve let out a huff of laughter, catching herself off-guard. Then narrowed her eyes at Villanelle as she sat her notepad to the side, “You’re hitting on me, right?”

 

“Do you want me to be?” Villanelle raised an eyebrow, leaned forward minutely.

 

Eve shook her head with another huff, doing a poor job at hiding her flattery. “I have to admit, I haven’t had a patient hit on me in a very long time…” A surge of confidence, success swelled in Villanelle. But then Eve looked at her sharply. “Is this your tactic for getting in MI5?” 

 

Villanelle blinked. “It would be a risky tactic, no? You might be straight, you could be  _ married _ , or hideous…You could find me annoying, you could have horrible bedside manner, completely disinterested in your patients...” Villanelle rattled off the possibilities for failure.

 

Eve took the bait. Standing, then pausing. “Conveniently though, none of the above are true.”


	3. Chapter 3

She  _ passed _ . 

 

Villanelle would never admit to anyone, not Konstantin, barely herself, that she could have failed but, as she had listed for Dr. Polastri nearly two and a half weeks ago, there were many opportunities for her to fall flat.

 

But she had toed the line well enough that Dr. Polastri bought it, accepted that no one trying to infiltrate MI5 would answer questions so intentionally obtusely, purposefully coloring their past with indiscretions and morally grey areas. 

 

And now here she was, walking out of the hospital unattended with instructions from Kenny to head towards the Ministry’s Hall, where she would meet Bill Pargrave, finally. 

 

The slightly balding, ingratiating British man was not what she was expecting. She could kill him easily, now, if she wanted. She brushed the impulse aside and tuned back in, nodding cooperatively, a disingenuous smile plastering her face. He wanted to place her somewhere for civic duty, a requirement for residency in Ministry 5. She knew the angle she wanted to try, security, a position that would allow her some authority if she played it right. The conversation was a dance, a well-timed suggestion here, a nudge of thought there. 

 

Bill was playing into it easily. “Dr. Polastri’s report is positive overall. We know you have defensive skills, as well as a keen mind. Ultimately, I believe you’d do well as a patrol based on your previous circumstances, but I’d like you to stay a bit close to home before you’re quite there. Earn your place, if you will.” 

 

Villanelle nodded again. “If I may, Mr. Pargrave?” Villanelle asked.

 

Bill nodded, brow quirked on one side. 

 

“Your hospital is defenseless. If your enemy wanted to weaken you, eliminating your healthcare would be a strong start.” 

 

Bill stilled, evaluating the woman before him. “You’d like to be posted at the hospital, then?” He questioned.

 

Villanelle shrugged, releasing the idea as a mere suggestion. “If that’s where you’d like me, I’d be happy to serve there. I can’t do much until this is off,” Villanelle raised her still plastered arm, “But I could at least be a set of eyes, a warning bell to any danger.” 

 

Bill nodded, happy enough with the conversation. “We’ll start there then. Monday, 8am.”

 

__________

 

Eve froze when she got to the front of the hospital on Monday morning. Villanelle was sitting on the curb, idly picking at the gauze underneath her cast. She looked up, hearing Eve’s footsteps stop. She offered the doctor a smile, getting to her feet. “Doctor,” She bowed her head genteelly at Eve. “Meet your new bodyguard.” 

 

Eve squinted. “You mean security guard for the  _ hospital _ . Bill told me.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, but I think guarding  _ your _ body is also part of the job, so technically  _ also _ your bodyguard,” Villanelle insisted, following Eve through the now unlocked front doors, trailing her all the way to her office. 

 

Eve finally turned around, looking at Villanelle expectantly. “Okay, but you know you’re not supposed to just shadow me, right?” 

 

Villanelle nodded, “Of course. I just had a question.”

 

“Well?” Eve gestured, impatient. 

 

“Now that you’re not my doctor and we’re coworkers, I thought maybe I could call you by your first name?” Villanelle rolled on the balls of her feet, miming an eager teenager.

 

“Oh…” Eve hesitated, brow slightly furrowed. “Sure.”

 

Villanelle raised her eyebrows, waiting.

 

“Eve. You can call me Eve.” 

 

__________

 

Villanelle shifted uncomfortably, feeling the grit of the sidewalk even through her pants from her perch on the curb outside of the Medical Center. She sighed, bored. Shuffled her feet idly in the dirt. Her shift had ended maybe an hour ago? She had been loitering for Eve since, unsurprised that the doctor put as much additional time into her job. 

 

Finally, Eve emerged. She froze, seeing Villanelle’s form waiting in the same place as this morning. “This your new favorite spot?”

 

Villanelle turned in her seat, smiling up at Eve. “I was hoping I could walk you home?” 

 

Eve locked the building’s doors before she turned back to Villanelle, wary. “Is there a reason you’re so interested in me? I know you’re the one who suggested to Bill that you be stationed at the Medical Center…”

 

“Did he really think it was a good idea?” Villanelle interjected, curious.

 

“...yeah, he actually did,” Eve admitted, moving to stand by Villanelle. “But why did you?”

 

“Well, I do think there are far too few guards here, for starters,” Villanelle got to her feet, cast her eyes about the street. “And the Medical Center  _ should _ be protected. You are one of three doctors, I meant it when I said you were a valuable asset.”

 

“But what’s your  _ personal _ investment in this?” Eve challenged, coming toe to toe with Villanelle. 

 

“I’d like to be an asset, too,” Villanelle shrugged, nonchalant. “Plus, you’re the only person I know here. It’s a bit lonely.” 

 

Eve hesitated then nodded to the left with her head. “My apartment’s this way.” And then she began walking, Villanelle quickly hopping to match her strides. They walked a few moments in silence before Villanelle broke it.

 

“So...what is it like living here? What are the people like?”

 

Eve glanced at her, still assessing, trying to understand this new person in her life, still feeling responsible for getting her a place in MI5, for better or worse. “It’s not unlike other Ministries. The people here  _ think _ they are good...some of them actually are.” 

 

“So there are bad people here?”

 

“There are bad people  _ everywhere _ . After the collapse, the Ministries formed because they were trying to distinguish themselves from the  _ bad people _ . But everyone knows it’s all the same, the Ministries are headed by the very members of Parliament and the Intelligence Agency that the citizens revolted against in the first place,” Eve sighed. “Power is a hard thing to wrest from people.” 

 

Villanelle offered a thoughtful hum, but allowed them to walk the rest of the way in quiet. Finally, Eve stopped in front of her building. Before she could open her mouth to announce their arrival, Villanelle spoke.

 

“And are you one of the good or the bad?” They were facing each other now, Villanelle’s eyes searching Eve’s countenance for a hint of something.

 

Eve sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I personally don’t think it’s such a simple distinction...I’m trying my best.”

 

“‘First do no harm’?” Villanelle tilted her head, still eyeing Eve. 

 

“That doesn’t always work,” Eve countered. She glanced up at her building. “Goodnight, Villanelle.”

 

__________

 

And so the next week continued much the same. Eve felt that Villanelle was playing a game with her, but to what end? Was she just trying to get her in bed? For every one of Villanelle’s steps forward, Eve tried to take one back. But then sometimes she accidentally took several forward, knew she was encouraging the behavior from the other woman, knew that she was participating equally, even if only for a few minutes here and there.

 

Like now, when she should have been much more focused on her patient’s complaints, but he truly seemed like a hypochondriac, sore throat, itchy eyes...Eve was certain it was allergies, but he wanted more testing done, was treating this like a doctor’s appointment from  _ before _ , where there were enough staff that most medical possibilities could be explored. He was babbling a list of ailments, while Eve gazed over the top of his right shoulder, eyes stuck to Villanelle who slouched leisurely in a chair near the entrance to the Medical Center. She stretched her legs forward, arms reaching up as she extended her spine and consequently revealed a strip of stomach to the air, bare. 

 

Villanelle’s gaze cut over, clearly feeling Eve’s roaming attention. They locked eyes long enough for Villanelle to send her a wink before, flustered, Eve tuned back in to her patient, nodding along again. Eve tried to reprimand herself as she handed the patient a bottle of allergy medicine, but her desire chimed in like an imp on the opposing shoulder. Would it be so bad to become romantically involved with the woman? Is it really any different from sleeping with anyone else in MI5?

 

Now that her patient was on his way out, she looked back to Villanelle’s place. The woman was gone. Probably off to pester Kenny, her second favorite hobby after Eve.

 

__________

 

Villanelle pushed herself around the small room, feet kicking, stool rolling, repeat. 

 

Kenny acted as if he was ignoring her, eyes glued to his screen in an attempt to update records.

 

She sighed loudly, completing another circuit around the room, wheels spinning loudly against the linoleum. 

 

“You know, I don’t think this is technically what your job is,” Kenny finally broke, glaring at her over the top of his computer. 

 

Villanelle let herself roll to a stop, a crease between her brows. “I’m protecting you from getting hurt, aren’t I?” 

 

Kenny sighed now, closing his laptop. “If you’re so bored here, why don’t you ask for a reassignment?” 

 

“I like it here,” Villanelle smiled at him.

 

“Then  _ why _ do you seem to only want to distract me from my work?” Kenny waited.

 

“I want to ask you about Eve,” Villanelle turned serious.

 

“Oh, I get it,” Kenny rolled his eyes. “ _ Eve _ is why you like it here.”

 

“Kenny, come, don’t sell yourself short. I like you too!” 

 

Kenny ignored her. “What do you want to know about Eve?”

 

“Does she talk about me?” 

 

“No.” This was a lie. Eve talked about Villanelle  _ constantly _ , perpetually questioning the woman’s motives, blabbering at Kenny about this or that suggestive comment, which Eve certainly wouldn’t admit that she liked. 

 

“Hm,” Villanelle was disappointed but hid it, instead spun in a circle on the stool. “Has she dated anyone in MI5?” 

 

Kenny let out another sigh, “Not that I know of, but honestly I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. You’re still in a probationary period, so technically you’re not even  _ allowed _ to date residents until you become one.” 

  
Ah. There it was. A legality to Eve’s push and pull. This was satisfactory enough for now. “ _ Jeez _ , okay Kenny, I get it. You’re a stickler for the rules. I won’t participate in  _ any _ illegal dating.” And with another of her smiles, Villanelle left the room, kicking the stool away to bump into Kenny on her way out.


	4. Chapter 4

Eve looked up at the clock. 7:09pm. Thank god, she was officially done for the week.

 

“Hi.” 

 

It startled Eve; she looked over to the doorway of her office. Villanelle rested her left shoulder against the doorframe. 

 

“Hi,” Eve responded, a note of hesitancy to the word.

 

“So…” Villanelle trailed her eyes about for a moment. “Any plans for your Friday evening?”

 

“Um...go home, sit down, close my eyes…” Eve sounded tired. 

 

“Would you like to get a drink before all of that?” Villanelle sounded casual. 

 

Eve nearly said yes, but found herself instead staring blankly at Villanelle.

 

A slow and cautious smile spread across Villanelle’s face. “I noticed MI5 has a bar just down the street…” She dragged along, waiting for some response.

 

Eve knew she was supposed to say no. Could hear Kenny’s reprimanding, Bill’s warning.

 

“Okay,” She nodded, shrugging on her coat and following Villanelle from the Medical Center.

 

__________

 

Eve was halfway through her first drink. It was definitely helping this feel more  _ normal _ . Villanelle sat directly across from her, close together at the tiny round table, a smoky din of other patrons around them. Villanelle seemed relaxed, slouched comfortably in her chair, her eyes slowly appraising everyone else in the bar, frequently returning back to Eve. 

 

“So you don’t socialize with the other residents often?” Villanelle asked, finishing her first drink and signalling for another. 

 

Eve sighed, hand raking through her curls again. “It feels messy. Treating them all day, being the person who psychologically evaluated some of them for a place here...I guess I just feel separate from them. And honestly, most of the time I just feel too  _ tired _ for this,” She waved around at the people, some raucous on their Friday night. 

 

Villanelle nodded before leaning in close, conspiratorially dropping her voice. “A man with a moustache has been staring at you since we arrived,” She tilted her head to the right, subtly. 

 

Eve glanced in the direction, quickly averting her eyes back to Villanelle. “Oh. That’s Niko. He’s one of the teachers at the school near the Medical Center.” Villanelle raised an eyebrow, waiting. “He...likes me.” 

 

Villanelle hummed, leaning back in her seat again. “It’s unrequited?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Villanelle looked pleased, took another large swallow of her drink.

 

__________

 

“Dr.  _ Polastri _ , are you too  _ plastered _ to remember which is your own house key?” Villanelle probably shouldn’t have had the last two whiskeys. Her words were slurred, her accent coming through more pronounced. She leaned into Eve’s personal space, grinning, but the doctor matched her state, giggling uncontrollably as she leaned against the rough brick of her building, flipping between the 10 different keys on her ring. 

 

“Don’t call me that outside of the hospital,” She swatted Villanelle’s shoulder, still distracted by the seeming impossibility of finding the right key. 

 

“What?” Villanelle was stilling grinning. “You prefer when I call you by your first name,  _ Eve _ ?” She was seriously encroaching on Eve’s personal space now, close enough they could feel each other’s breath. 

 

“Don’t most people?” Eve finally looked up, realized their proximity. The alcohol loosened her thoughts and tongue. “Is Villanelle really your name?”

 

“Yes,” Villanelle said firmly, despite her body’s sway. “I mean, I chose it for myself, but yes.”

 

Eve nodded, “That counts.” 

 

And then they were kind of just hanging there, gazing into each other’s eyes, a little too close for normalcy, a little too drunk to care otherwise. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Villanelle’s words were quieted. 

 

Eve nodded, eyes flicking to Villanelle’s lips. Heart a distinct thud, anticipatory. 

 

“Maybe...maybe on Monday you finally cut me out of this thing?” She gestured to the cast on her right arm. “It’s kind of cramping my style.” 

 

Eve swallowed her disappointment. “Sure...yes, it should be fine,” She glanced down to her key ring, suddenly alighting upon her door key. “I should get to bed,” She tried quickly wrapping up the evening, all too aware of where else it could have gone if Villanelle had asked her a different question. 

 

“Of course,” Villanelle stepped back, breaking the spell. “Goodnight, Eve.”

 

__________

 

Villanelle whistled on her way to her own apartment. Sure, she hadn’t kissed Eve, but Eve had  _ wanted _ her to. That was worth almost as much, in her opinion. The alcohol buzzed pleasantly under her skin, her pace a bit jaunty to match the tune she warbled out. 

 

And then a large calloused hand clamped down over her mouth and tugged her into a darkened alleyway. She reared her muscles to resist, but then Konstantin’s large head swam into view.

 

“What the fuck!” She hissed when he released her, glancing over her shoulder. “How the hell are you even here?” 

 

“By necessity,” He looked down at her, disappointed. “No communications, no sign of any kind from you. You’ve been here over a month. What have you got to show?” 

 

Villanelle stood to her full height again, suddenly petulant. “It’s a long game, Konstantin. They have to trust me, I’m an outsider. They  _ know _ there are external threats, I’ve just barely been vetted as it is.” 

 

“I thought you would say this,” Now he looked over his shoulder, then down at his watch. “I’m sending someone else in. Let him eliminate one of the hospital staff. Another threat will place you firmly in their ranks, will prove if you were going to do something you already would have done it by now.” 

 

Villanelle rolled her eyes, tried to hide the sudden spike of anxiety from her handler. “Fine.”


	5. Chapter 5

Eve opened her front door at the knock. “Bill?” She opened the door wider, gesturing him in. “Don’t usually see you on weekend mornings…”

 

“Yes, well, I heard some things.”

 

Eve raised an eyebrow. “Things?” She stepped into the kitchen. “Tea?”

 

“Yes, please,” Bill sat down on her small couch, making himself comfortable, perusing one of Eve’s books while she clattered about the kitchen.

 

She came back in eventually, handing Bill a small mug before taking a seat in the armchair across from him. “So? What were the things?”

 

“You were with Villanelle last night?” His eyes uncontrollably glanced over her shoulder and into her bedroom before returning.

 

“Yes…” She dragged the word.

 

“Fraternizing?”

 

She scoffed at him. “We had a few drinks at the pub. Where’s this going?” 

 

“Was it professional?” He sipped his tea. 

 

Eve paused, frowning and annoyed. “Well, no, I wouldn’t exactly call drinking in a bar a  _ professional _ activity.” 

 

“Do you think that’s wise?” 

 

“Drinking?”

 

“With Villanelle,” He clarified, looking at her knowingly.

 

“Bill, will you just spit it out already? What did someone say to you?” She sat her teacup down on the table and stared at him expectantly. 

 

“I received a call saying that you seemed  _ intimate _ together. That she came home with you.” He also sat his cup down, squaring his expression into seriousness. 

 

“Well, that’s just false. She walked me home after a few drinks. End of story.” Eve matched him with her own resolve. 

 

“Could it have been more than that?” 

 

“Couldn’t  _ anything _ always be more? Couldn’t I kiss you right now?” Eve ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. “Who told you all of this, seriously?” 

 

Bill blinked before relenting. “Niko.”

 

“Oh,  _ great _ ! The man I’m not interested in who has hounded me for a date relentlessly for the past year is the one providing you with this completely  _ unbiased _ information about my comings and goings. That seems normal, right?” 

 

Bill’s shoulders finally relaxed, sheepish. He sighed, picking up his cup again. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t consider that aspect.” 

 

Eve relaxed now too, the interrogative air dissipating immediately. “It’s okay,” Eve picked her cup up as well. “Niko was giving me weird looks all night, I’m not surprised he went this route.” 

 

“I have to remind you of this though, so please don’t get cross again. This is for your own safety. Villanelle’s status is still probationary. I understand forming a friendship, you work together. But I need you to uphold a level of professionalism for the next two months. Once she’s a resident, your business is your own. But you know our rules, and you aren’t exempt, Eve.”

 

Eve kept the sigh to herself this time. “I understand, Bill.”

 

__________

 

Villanelle had been agitated all week, her normal antics put aside. No pestering Kenny, no leering over Eve. She was hypervigilant now, every new patient, every person coming through the front doors, a suspicious eye cast all around.

 

Eve noticed the change in behavior, but after her talk with Bill, she figured the man had also paid a visit to Villanelle. Given her some form of the same warning to stay in her lane, for now. 

 

Kenny nudged Eve’s shoulder as he watched Villanelle’s structured pacing, down one hallway, back to the entrance. Eyes swimming about, surveilling. “What’s her deal?” He whispered to the other doctor. “She’s taking this very seriously all of sudden, don’t you think?” 

 

“Bill talked to her. I think this is her trying to earn her place,” Eve offered the most likely explanation.

 

__________

 

It was Friday. Villanelle sat stock-still, eyes on the entrance to the hospital. Being a devoted sentry was boring, much less time to spend watching Eve. But Villanelle couldn’t shake Konstantin’s orders.  _ “Let him eliminate one of the hospital staff.” _ God, it would be convenient if it were Kenny, but what if it wasn’t? Villanelle swallowed, re-focused on scanning the patients.

 

And then she heard it. The loud rumbling of the approaching truck. Of course this is how Konstantin would send him in, the same way she had come.  

 

Eve and Kenny appeared shortly, dutifully heading out front to intake the new arrivals. Villanelle trailed after them. The driver of the truck performed the same routine as when Villanelle had arrived. There were no dead bodies this time, just one person in identical zip ties. He was dirty, his countenance mean without trying. Villanelle narrowed her eyes at him. When would he attempt it? Immediately? A few days? Weeks? 

 

Eve led him inside, the same way she had Villanelle. His arm wasn’t broken, so Eve wasn’t as quick to free his bound wrists. Villanelle watched silently from the other side of the room, eyes not leaving the man. He looked at her briefly, assessing. She wondered how much Konstantin had told him. Did he know who she was?

 

Eve asked him a litany of medical questions. No injuries. He was hungry. He claimed to be from another Ministry, MI3, but had gotten lost on an excursion. Eve dutifully took her notes, then explained the process of his detainment until further notice. He nodded, quiet and compliant.

 

Villanelle relaxed a little. He wouldn’t be striking today at least.

 

__________

 

She stalked him for the next two days like a hungry lioness. If she saw Eve heading to his room, she quickened her pace, so she could be lurking in the hallway at the same time. She tried to not be obvious, but she knew she was. Why else would she suddenly be so invested in her job? She knew Kenny and Eve had noticed the difference, but neither had brought it up with her. She didn’t know if this was a bad or good sign; maybe they had attributed her behavior to something else, or maybe they were suspicious of her, taking notes of their own.

 

Even when Eve delicately sawed through the plaster encasing her arm, Villanelle’s words remained professional and sparse. The doctor ran her hands over the newly revealed wrist, and Villanelle’s thoughts consisted only of the ticking time bomb of a man sitting behind a door down the hall.  

 

“You seem good as new,” Eve concluded, letting Villanelle test her mobility on her own.

 

“Thank you, Eve,” Villanelle nodded once, before standing and returning to her post near the doorway. 

 

Eve let her eyes linger too long on Villanelle’s retreating form. Even if she wanted to admit that she missed the attention, she didn’t have much of a willing audience in Kenny.

 

__________

 

The screams of agony made Eve and Kenny lock eyes, and then simultaneously rush to the new arrival’s room. 

 

“Doctor! Please! Help!”

 

The pair burst through the door, finding the man, Aaron, writhing in his bed, wrists still bound as he attempted to clutch at his stomach. 

 

__________

 

Villanelle rounded a hallway corner, expecting to find Kenny and Eve in the last place she left them, but their chairs were empty. Her stomach dropped, legs already running to the room she knew she’d find them in.

 

__________

 

“Where’s the pain?” Eve was at his side in an instant.

 

“Stomach. Right side.” He ground out, neck bulging and straining.

 

“Appendicitis?” She met Kenny’s eyes, he nodded. Eve palpitated the man’s abdomen. He recoiled with another scream. She looked back to Kenny, “Ready for an emergency appendectomy?” 

 

“Probably never will be, but here we go,” He reached for a pair of gloves and snapped them into place, opening up a drawer of sterile utensils and arranging them on a nearby cart for Eve. “Cut his ties?” 

 

Eve nodded, reaching for and rolling over the tank of anesthetic. 

 

And as soon as Kenny had sliced through the zip ties, Aaron brought both hands together, slamming the side of Kenny’s head so loudly the resounding smack made Eve spin on her heel. She watched, motionless, as Kenny’s form crashed to the ground, and as Aaron snatched the small surgical knife off of the tray and advanced on her. She didn’t have time to scream before the blade was pointed at her throat, the sharp edge already nipping at her skin. Aaron’s lips pulled back in a sharky and satisfied smile. 

 

“Goodbye, Doctor--” 

 

But then a pair hands had grabbed his head from behind. One on his chin, one at the top of his skull and with a rapid twist and resounding  _ snap _ , his form slumped to the floor, like a puppet who suddenly had his strings cut. 

 

Eve was still frozen, but now her eyes were locked on Villanelle: wide eyed, nearly rabid. Villanelle blinked and the look was replaced with concern. She stepped forward, reaching out to swipe at the small trickle of blood on Eve’s neck with her thumb. 

 

“Are you okay?” Villanelle’s voice was quiet, tender even. 

 

Eve couldn’t verbalize yet, and instead sank forward into Villanelle’s arms, pressing her cheek into Villanelle’s chest, exhaling relief into the embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

“Maybe it’s time for us to close our doors,” Bill stood over Aaron’s dead body, left where he had fallen, the entire Medical Center in a fugue-like state. 

 

“What? Seriously?” Eve stood next to him, eyed MI5’s leader with surprise. 

 

“To me, this signals a beginning of escalation…” 

 

“But there are other steps we can take before we completely  _ close _ our borders. The holding period can be longer, constraints stronger...this could be an isolated incident. We’d be denying people who  _ need _ us to survive…” 

 

“This ‘isolated incident’ almost took out my lead doctor,” Bill finally looked to her, pointedly. 

 

“And the person responsible for saving my life is not even a  _ resident _ yet,” Eve pushed back. “Please don’t fall into this xenophobic pattern of thought. I understand being cautious, but--” 

 

“Eve,” Bill cut her off. “I appreciate all you do for MI5, but you are not my defense councillor.” And with a nod of finality, he briskly left the Medical Center.

 

__________

 

Villanelle pushed into her apartment and froze, the darkened figure sitting in her living room giving her a moment’s pause before she exhaled loudly and flipped the light on him. 

 

“That was not the plan,” Konstantin glared. 

 

“No, my plan was  _ better _ ,” Villanelle gave him a bratty smile, joined him in the living room and slumped down into one of the basic arm chairs MI5 had provided. “Now Eve trusts me.”

 

“And why is Eve’s opinion so important to you?” Konstantin challenged. “Pargrave is your target. Pargrave is making the weapons deals. Eve is just a doctor.” 

 

“ _ Wrong _ . She’s my way in. She’s close to Pargrave, they’re friends. If he trusts her, and she trusts  _ me _ ...get it?” Villanelle rolled her eyes at her handler. 

 

“So this isn’t a personal pursuit?” Konstantin raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I have a  _ plan _ . This is part of it,” Villanelle made an exasperated face, annoyed. 

 

Konstantin made a judgemental noise, but got to his feet. He began walking to the door, but stopped next to Villanelle, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I think this  _ is _ personal, and I think she’s distracting you. Focus on getting the names, then focus on getting out.”

 

He shut the front door behind him, nearly silent. Villanelle exhaled loudly as she threw her head back, wearing a pout for no one.

 

__________

 

Slowly, the change was apparent to Eve. The patrol truck no longer came to the hospital. Her patients were only residents. It made her job a little simpler, she could be more attentive to minor conditions and ailments, but she also felt like she was slipping in ranks. Bill was distant, clearly displeased with her position during their last talk.

 

And, on top of all of this, Villanelle didn’t seem to be pursuing her anymore.

 

Which maybe stung more than anything else.

 

And so, here she was. Standing at Villanelle’s door, 9pm, Saturday.

 

She knocked.

 

Villanelle answered, her eyes widening briefly before a small smile slipped across her face. “Eve.”

 

“Hi, uh, can we talk?” Eve seem flustered already, messing with her curls.

 

Villanelle nodded, opening the door wider and allowing the doctor to step inside.

 

Eve glanced at the blank living area, not different from her own unlived in, unloved space. She perched herself on the edge of the couch. Villanelle hovered in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, taking in Eve, head tilted.

 

The silence lingered for too long, so finally Villanelle broke it. “What’s up, Doc?” She winked at Eve.

 

Eve sighed, leaning back more fully into the couch now. “Have things seemed weird to you?”

 

“Mm,” Villanelle nodded, “You mean the lockdown.”

 

“Yeah, that’s a big part of it. Everything just seems so... _ tense _ . I think Bill is icing me out…” She mussed her hair again. 

 

Villanelle stepped in the room further, curious now. She took a seat on the couch, but stayed at the opposite end of Eve, facing her. “A little more of an iron fist than you’re used to?” 

 

Eve nodded, “He’s defensive. I think he’s gearing up for something...he definitely didn’t like me pushing back against closing the territory. God, you don’t think he  _ orchestrated _ the Aaron mess, do you? Did he want me  _ dead _ ?” She stared at Villanelle with wide eyes, conspiracy spiraling.

 

“I think you’re getting a little paranoid, Eve,” Villanelle reassured. “Maybe he wanted to stir up fear of outsiders, but I don’t think he wanted you  _ dead _ . And I doubt he would have posted me at the hospital if his intent was harm. You would have been a much easier target without me there.”

 

“And what about you?” Eve changed direction now. 

 

“Me?” Villanelle felt a wave of unease but masked it. 

 

“You’ve been acting differently, too. Avoiding me all week…” Eve was studying the other woman now.

 

“I’m trying to keep it  _ professional _ ,” Villanelle swallowed. 

 

“...and if you weren’t being professional?” Eve’s body shifted more fully towards Villanelle. 

 

“ _ Eve _ ,” It sounded like a warning and an invitation all at once, Villanelle’s voice dropping, eyes darkening. “Is there something you want to happen tonight?” Villanelle furthered, voice silky. 

 

Eve froze. Chest thundering. The answer was emphatically  _ yes _ , but instead she stood quickly from her seat. “I don’t know. Yes?” She groaned. Paced a few feet away before turning to look back at Villanelle’s lithe form, her raised eyebrow, waiting. “I’m sorry. I should go.” She walked to the front door, Villanelle followed with her eyes but remained in place. Eve stopped again, turned back. “Thank you. For not letting me get killed.” 

 

“You’re welcome,” Villanelle smiled now. 

 

Eve nodded, turned to leave, hand on doorknob, but stopped once again, turned back around to look at Villanelle. “Do you like me?” The question hung for a few moments.

 

“Yes.” Villanelle held eye contact. 

 

“Okay,” Eve nodded, glanced away. “Okay.”

 

She opened the door and left.


	7. Chapter 7

“What the hell is this?” Eve scowled at the flier that had been posted to the Medical Center’s front door.

 

“Oh,” Kenny glanced at it, “Some idea of Bill’s. Morale building and all that. People are still shook up from the Aaron incident. Much more than you are, and _you’re_ the one that had a scalpel to your throat.”

 

“You _did_ get knocked unconscious, Kenny.”

 

He shrugged, “Think I’d rather get clocked cold than cut open.”

 

“Noted,” Eve murmured, snatching the flier down and bringing it inside with them while she continued to look it over. “ _‘...community celebration…’_ What bullshit. Nationalistic, isolationist--”

 

“What’s that?” Villanelle had appeared from nowhere, was suddenly very close and peering over Eve’s shoulder. “A party?”

 

“Um, yes, it appears that way,” Eve turned her head, mouth now very close to Villanelle’s cheek.

 

Villanelle hummed in response. “Are you going?” She stepped out of Eve’s space now, moved to fiddle with something on the nearby desk.

 

Eve hesitated. “I don’t know…”

 

“Do you want to go together?” Villanelle asked, gaze on her again, unwavering.

 

Eve swallowed, “Okay. Yes.”

 

__________

 

Villanelle paced her apartment, chewing an apple loudly.

 

The party was perfect. She couldn’t have orchestrated it better if she had tried.

 

Everyone inebriated, everyone distracted. _Bill_ inebriated, _Bill_ distracted. Making Eve her date had been a bonus. She smirked. She deeply enjoyed proving Konstantin wrong.

 

__________

 

The week dragged by, nearly painfully for Eve. Work wasn’t demanding, but her attention on Villanelle _was_. Eve was certain the other woman was playing into it, posing idly here and there, waiting to feel Eve’s eyes dragging across her before skittering away.

 

It made Eve feel younger. She liked that.

 

She liked the flutter in her ribcage, the pull behind her navel.

 

Sometimes, Villanelle’s eyes would lock on and not let go. Eve lingered, playing back.

 

It made Eve feel wanted. She liked that, too.

 

__________

 

It was Saturday, finally. The party began at sunset. Eve had been preening for the past two and half hours, shuffling through the three acceptable dresses she owned, choosing the blue with straps, dusting blush, donning lipstick.

 

The gathering was being held in the middle of town; Eve had watched idly from her apartment window between bouts of nerves and excitement. There was food, libations, small torches set up to illuminate the area. Bill was pouring a lot of resources into this, it must be important to him to establish their community as strong, together, _closed_.

 

She hadn’t seen Villanelle since yesterday evening as they were both leaving the Medical Center. Villanelle had hesitated on the sidewalk, seemed to almost ask something, then settled with “See you tomorrow, Eve,” a small smile.

 

And now Eve was nervous, like this was her first date. Hell, it _was_ her first date in a _very_ long time. Was she supposed to meet Villanelle somewhere? Would the other woman pick her up from her apartment? Shouldn’t they have solidified these plans beforehand?

 

Now it was dusk, and Eve was anxious and antsy enough that she left her apartment unprompted, prepared to face whatever tonight would bring.

 

__________

 

It wasn’t easy acquiring the suit, but Villanelle was _particular._ And persuasive.

 

She knew the look would work for Eve, now all she had to do was wait. Her black combat boots crunched over the gravel in the center of MI5; her patterned brocade jacket moody with its dark maroon, blue, black. She had braided her hair up, tight against the back of her head.

 

It wasn’t long; across the dusky town square, her eyes alighted upon Eve. They shared an extended look, before Villanelle stepped forward first, heading directly for the other woman.

 

Eve felt the pull, let it direct her forward, a helpless magnet.

 

They stopped, toe to toe. Villanelle’s eyes roaming, up and down.

 

“You look lovely,” She husked.

 

Eve swallowed. “Thank you.”

 

A feeling hung, momentary; Eve thought this is when she would press forward and kiss the other woman if she were bolder. Instead, she waited.

 

Villanelle held still for another beat, then tilted her head. “Would you like a drink?”

 

Eve nodded, taking the pro-offered crook of Villanelle’s sleeved arm.

 

__________

 

The evening proceeded much more normally than Eve expected. Villanelle was attentive, but well-behaved. She seemed to have pulled back her suggestiveness, satisfied enough by the reality of a date, by Eve’s undivided attention. They shared drinks, Eve sniggering over Villanelle’s pointed sense of humor. At this moment, it was being directed at ripping apart the fashion choices of the other residents of MI5. Eve thought this was unfair given Villanelle’s obvious tastes, but the other woman’s jabs exhilarated Eve, made her feel in on the joke.  

 

She finished her current drink, purposefully ignored the way she leaned further into Villanelle’s space afterward.

 

__________

 

As much as Villanelle was enjoying the attention, she would need to slip away from Eve, just for a little while. But Eve’s progression through her drinks had a positive correlation to the increase in casual touching, Villanelle’s arm, her thigh, briefly and lightly, and the assassin was having a hard time choosing _boring_ work over _handsy_ Eve.

 

She smiled hungrily at Eve, letting their thighs brush on the small bench they were sharing.

 

Someone cleared their throat.

 

Both women broke apart to look up at Kenny, standing before them awkwardly.

 

“Oh, hey Kenny,” Eve smiled at him, regaining some of the space between her body and Villanelle’s.

 

“Hey,” His eyes darted nervously between the two of them.

 

“Are you okay?” Eve wrinkled her brow in concern.

 

“Yep. Yeah,” He nodded, looking about at the other residents, socializing, drinking. “Um, well, actually, you guys are really the only people I know here and I have social anxiety but I feel like a third wheel if I stand too close--”

 

“Oh God, sorry Kenny,” Eve stood up to join him. “Come on, let’s grab a drink,” She paused once she was next to her co-worker, looking back at Villanelle expectantly. “Are you coming?”

 

“Go,” Villanelle nodded towards the bar. “I’ll find you.” She winked at her date.

 

__________

 

Once Eve and Kenny were far enough away, backs still turned to her, Villanelle made her move. She wandered a bit, skirting the groups of people, appearing to take a casual stroll around the party. No one stopped her, seemed to pay her much mind. She needed to locate Bill.

 

She found him conveniently at the front of the largeish crowd, seemingly preparing to make a statement about the celebration. She lingered long enough to hear Bill clear his throat, begin with “Friends, residents--” and then she turned on her heel, off at a brisk pace towards his office.

 

__________

 

“What are you doing in here?”

 

Villanelle spun around, fingers slipping from the documents she had been going through on Bill’s desk. She met Eve’s gaze, her eyes widening only minutely and then returning to a metered size and expression. “Eve.”

 

Eve closed the heavy wooden door behind her and pressed her back against it. Villanelle let her eyes sweep the other woman’s body, briefly admiring the dress, her legs, her hair…

 

“Why are you in here, Villanelle?” She kept her back against the door, the simple carvings pressing into her skin. Her face was even, untelling.

 

Villanelle felt her mind racing, trying to grasp at a thread Eve would be most willing to believe. She still wasn’t ready to kill the woman, didn’t want to examine how she would prefer to not kill her at all. She followed this desire instead, pushed off the desk and towards Eve.

 

“I guess I just wanted to know more...about Bill’s plans. I wanted to be able to help. Maybe impress you with a good idea…” She averted her eyes to the ground, leaned into a bashfulness.

 

“ _Bullshit_.” Eve’s expression remained unchanged, but the word cut through the air and made Villanelle’s eyes snap up again. Eve reached behind her back and flipped the lock on the door, the click echoing in the small silent office.

 

Villanelle raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth, “E--”

 

Eve strode straight toward her, almost a rush, until Villanelle felt the backs of her thighs pressed against Bill’s desk, unaware that she had even retreated from the other woman. She didn’t like that; she inflated her chest to compensate, leaning back in to match Eve’s proximity.

 

“I knew there was something about you…” Eve shook her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

 

“You’re saying you think I’m special?” Villanelle flashed a smile at the other woman, reaching out a hand and lightly resting it on Eve’s hip. “Well, I think that you are very special too, Eve,” She lowered her voice, leaned a little closer, trying to bring back the chemistry from earlier in the evening.

 

Eve stilled under her hand, but didn’t move away. Instead, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Who do you work for?”

 

“For you, if you want,” Villanelle’s voice had slipped fully into seduction, the pad of her thumb rubbing back and forth against Eve’s hipbone.

 

Without averting her gaze, Eve was suddenly pressing back into Villanelle, sharply.  _Too_ sharply. Villanelle looked down and frowned. Eve had a bright blade, four inches roughly, the tip nipping against Villanelle’s stomach through her dress shirt. Villanelle looked back up to Eve, eyebrows raised. “Well, this is unexpected. You really _are_ very special.”

 

“ _Who_ do you work for?” Eve pressed again, her tone matching the additional pressure from the blade, which was really beginning to make Villanelle uncomfortable.

 

Villanelle sighed. “I really liked you, you know?” Her expression shifted again, disappointed, moody. “I’m supposed to kill you, Eve. I guess I have to, now?” Villanelle was toying with her, testing her.

 

“Answer my question.” Eve sounded gravely serious this time.

 

Villanelle pressed forward, into the knife, bringing her mouth closer to Eve’s. “ _Make me_.”

 

Eve set her jaw, Villanelle’s breath ghosting her lips. Then, with barely any effort, she pressed forward.

 

Villanelle gasped, the blade cutting into her skin as if she were an overripe peach. She stared into Eve’s eyes, expression widening and falling, her mouth open, nearly on top of Eve’s lips.

 

“ _Shit!_ ” Eve pulled the knife out, the steel clattering to the floor and breaking the spell. She immediately replaced the blade with her hand, pressing back into Villanelle firmly. “Shit shit shit! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

 

Villanelle hissed through clenched teeth, leaning into Eve’s pressure, resting her forehead on the other woman’s shoulder. “I’ll be okay. You did not go very deep.”

 

“God, why did you let me stab you!? I thought you were supposed to kill _me_!”

 

Villanelle grunted. “I _told_ you. I like you.”

 

“Enough to tell me who you work for?” Eve tried again.

 

“After you made me bleed all over my suit?” Villanelle scoffed, raising her head to meet Eve’s eyes. “Which, by the way, I wore for _you_.”

 

“You look...nice,” Eve stuttered, gaze bouncing away now, nervous.

 

Villanelle sighed, her form deflating as she leaned back, resting her weight against the desk.

 

“Very nice,” Eve furthered, concern growing over the other woman’s shallow breaths and loss of bravado.

 

“Enough compliments, Eve, you don’t need to sugarcoat it. Do you turn me into Bill now? Am I a prisoner?” She met Eve’s eyes again, defeat looking odd on her, catching Eve off guard.

 

Eve softened. One hand still pressing to stop Villanelle’s bleeding, Eve brought her left hand up to Villanelle’s face, thumb brushing the woman’s jawline.

 

Villanelle’s heart quickened.

 

“I don’t work for Bill,” Eve paused. “Can I kiss you?”


	8. Chapter 8

Villanelle stared with wide eyes, the revelation washing over and then running through her mind for mere seconds before she crashed her mouth hungrily into Eve’s, her hands grasping at Eve’s hair, pulling her in closer.

 

Eve moaned into her mouth, meeting her level of enthusiasm. One hand still held to the wound she inflicted, her other now clutched Villanelle’s suit jacket, tugging her infinitesimally close, Villanelle’s blood surely smearing all over her own dress.

 

Villanelle’s panting sourced from lust now and not pain, and she wanted _more_. With a slight shift, she seated herself on Bill’s desk, effectively pulling Eve between her knees and trapping her there. She broke the kiss to catch her breath, eyes dark and pupils blown, like a cat with its mouse, gaze not leaving Eve. “I knew you liked me,” She punctuated with a nip to Eve’s bottom lip. Eve rolled her eyes, still leaning in, letting Villanelle’s thighs squeeze her. “So…” Villanelle leaned back on an arm casually, eyes raking Eve again pleasurably. “Since I gave you a kiss, do I get to know who you _do_ work for?”

 

“I _definitely_ asked you first,” Eve asserted.

 

“Okay, so what? Our options are fuck or disclose employers?” Villanelle winked and leaned back in. “I think you already know which I’ll choose...”

 

Eve matched her lean, close and unwavering. “You’re a mercenary for The Twelve colonies,” She said it even and calm, authoritatively.

 

Villanelle’s smirk dropped. She hesitated, eyes running over Eve’s face, trying to catch her in something. Finally, she sighed dramatically, throwing her arms up and then wincing when the motion pulled at her wound, a fresh wash of blood leaking out. “So the stabbing _was_ just for fun? If you already knew the answer?” She was annoyed.

 

Now Eve smirked. “I _didn’t_ know when I stabbed you. That was a guess. So thanks for that.” She stole a chaste peck, chasing away some of Villanelle’s annoyance and transforming it into a pout.

 

“You are _very_ lucky I like you so much,” Villanelle pulled her into another kiss, this one more languorous, but domineering. She broke the kiss after a few moments, pulling back just enough to whisper, “You know I am not even _trying_ to kill you right? You know I haven’t been fighting back at all? If I wanted to--”

 

“ _I know_ ,” Eve whispered back, moving to Villanelle’s neck where she placed a succession of kisses and barely gentle bites.

 

“Good,” Villanelle leaned her body into Eve’s. “As long as you know.”

 

__________

 

Villanelle was holding her own wound now, pouting from her spot still atop the desk as Eve rifled through drawers and documents. She was over the espionage, much more interested in her desire for Eve still swirling heavy in her stomach. Villanelle watched Eve, flipping, scanning, casting aside or folding up papers and shoving them into her dress. A dress that Villanelle would like to be taking off now.

 

She sighed, bored. “Were you even in here to catch me?” She asked, realization hitting her.

 

Eve glanced up. “No.”

 

Villanelle groaned. “Great minds, eh?” Eve murmured a non-response. “What are you looking for?” Villanelle tried, hoping Eve’s preoccupation would work to her advantage.

 

“Communications between MI5 and any other Ministries. Trying to see who else is in on this, where Bill is getting the weaponry…”

 

“And do you have any guesses about the supplier?” Villanelle tensed, the information Konstantin had hired her to acquire feeling so close.

 

Eve froze, glancing up, before busying herself again, folding more papers, this time faster. “Nice try.”

 

Villanelle heaved another lengthy sigh. “Come on...aren’t we basically on the same side now?”

 

“Um, no,” Eve continued paging through. “Not even close. You’re from the Twelve, you’re _part_ of them, even if you are a hired hand. And their goal is to eliminate _all_ of the Ministries, so definitely _not_ the same side.”

 

Villanelle smirked. “So you are from a Ministry, just not Ministry 5.”

 

Eve groaned. “Fine. We’re even now, okay?”

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Villanelle droned, pulling a face. “But what _are_ we? We kiss, I don’t kill you, you _stab_ me…” Villanelle waited for Eve to supply an answer.

 

“We’re...situational accomplices.”

 

Villanelle looked unimpressed.

 

Eve sighed, “With benefits,” She added, reluctantly.

 

Villanelle’s smirk was back.

 

“We need to leave, _now_ ,” Eve instructed, looking over the other woman, eyes landing on the stab wound. She rubbed her forehead with one hand, trying to work out a plan. “Button your jacket all the way and follow me.”

 

Villanelle rolled her eyes and stood up with a wince, gingerly working her way up her blazer’s closures. She tried to take a step forward but stumbled, doubling over to clutch at her abdomen again. Eve rushed to her side, quickly shouldering her weight and leaning in close, before opening the office door and tugging Villanelle along. “Just...act _very_ drunk,” Eve whispered, eyes darting everywhere, expecting to be caught.

 

They made it down the hallway, through the front door, down the stairs--

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Eve whispered, spotting Bill’s approaching form in the distance. Of course, heading to his office. Villanelle frowned, trying to look up to see the cause for alarm, but then Eve was shoving her roughly against the brick of the building. Suddenly, they were face to face, Eve pressing her chest into Villanelle’s, mouths almost touching. “Play along,” the words ghosted over Villanelle’s lips, and then Eve was kissing her. _Truly_ kissing her, like this was the last kiss on Earth, like Villanelle would be ripped from her arms at any moment.

 

It took a moment, but Villanelle responded, moaning into Eve’s mouth, her hands moving to Eve’s hips to hold on. Eve clutched at Villanelle’s face, doing her best to look desperate, _hungry_ , pretending those weren’t the real emotions she was feeling. Villanelle ran her tongue over Eve’s bottom lip, earning her own throaty moan. Eve was vaguely aware of the footsteps, now right beside them, a pause, and then they shuffled on, up the stairs, into the building.

 

Eve broke the kiss abruptly, Villanelle’s face still clouded with lust, her faculties trailing thanks to the blood loss and the kiss.

 

“We have to hurry,” Eve was dragging Villanelle along again. “I don’t have time to stitch you up now, he’s going to see your blood all over his office. We have to go straight to the extraction…”

 

“Extraction?” The word felt obtuse and heavy on Villanelle’s tongue, her vision going spotted at the edges…

 

__________

 

“Bloody hell, who is _this_?”

 

Villanelle felt hands underneath her arms, two sets, two people heaving her up somewhere and then placing her down, a little less than gentle. An engine sounded, and then wherever she was lurched forward, presumably speeding away from MI5.

 

“She’s...a friend.”

 

“A _stabbed_ friend? What happened?” Elena’s eyes bulged at Eve.

 

“Um,” Eve took a deep breath, undoing Villanelle’s jacket to reveal the damage. “Well, I stabbed her, actually. Do you have a first aid kit in here? I need to stitch it up.”

 

Elena stared at Eve in disbelief. “You stabbed her but now you want to fix it? What is going _on_?”

 

Eve groaned, feeling around under the seats for the first aid kit herself. “It’s _complicated_. We have...a thing,” She waved one hand in the air in front of her, hoping the gesture would dispel some of Elena’s questioning. Her hand finally closed around a square box, and she pulled out a field kit triumphantly. 

 

“And what kind of thing is that, exactly?” Elena wasn’t budging.

 

Villanelle blinked back into consciousness, felt Eve’s fingers on her stomach again, pulling away her drenched dress shirt, dabbing away some of the blood around the wound. The stranger who was talking to Eve swam into view.

 

Villanelle hissed, then swallowed, “The thing is Eve likes to kiss me _and_ stab me,” Her lips curled in a pained smile, wincing as Eve pierced her skin the first time with the needle.

 

“Hush,” Eve reprimanded her, meeting her eyes. “And hold still. It only needs a few stitches.”

 

“Eve, seriously, what the hell?” Elena asked, watching the strange scene before her.

 

“Our doctor is _full_ of surprises,” Villanelle’s vision was swimming again, but she slipped back under wearing a small smile directed at Eve.

 

__________

 

She woke up in a proper hospital bed this time. Her right hand was hand-cuffed to the rail.

 

After a minute of tugging experimentally on the cuffs, the door opened. An austere woman in a pantsuit with cropped hair stepped in, approached her bed. Assessed her silently.

 

“Who are you?” Villanelle questioned bluntly.

 

“Carolyn Martens.”

 

“Where am I?” Villanelle tried.

 

“MI6.”

 

Villanelle groaned.

 

“You’re Villanelle. Formerly, Oksana Astankova. I know you work for the Twelve Colonies. I know the directives of your mission. I think we have a mutual goal.” Carolyn laid it out without gimmicks. Villanelle respected that.

 

“Where’s Eve?”

 

“Ah...I’m afraid there’s a conflict of interests for Eve to be this particular liaison. So the negotiations will be with me.”

 

“Can I see her?” Villanelle ventured, desperate, mad about the feeling urging her along.

 

“It depends on the conclusion of our conversation,” A smile ghosted Carolyn’s lips.

 

“You want me to work for you?”

 

A single nod from Carolyn. Villanelle studied her face, silent for several minutes.

 

Then,

 

“Okay. But I have a few conditions.”

 

__________

 

“You seriously wouldn’t let Carolyn unlock these for you?” Eve stepped closer to Villanelle in disbelief.

 

“Carolyn is the boss, she’s too busy for things like this,” Villanelle was smirking, pleased by Eve’s arrival.

 

“And you think I’m not?” Eve slipped the key in and turned, freeing her wrist.

 

“I thought you would like it,” She smiled up at Eve fully now. “So...you talked to Carolyn?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And how do you feel about our _arrangement_?” Villanelle prodded.

 

“I’m sure you can guess.” Eve held her cards close.

 

“Well, I thought we made pretty good partners, personally,” Villanelle offered. “You’re actually quite skilled at _espionage_ , Eve.” She was trying to make this playful, expected a kiss sooner, but Eve’s focus was hovering around her abdomen.

 

“Are you okay? Really?” Eve was unable to refrain from asking.

 

Villanelle shooed the question away, “I’m fine. I’ve had much worse stabbings, trust me. Yours was barely a scratch.”

 

“I’m sorry, again.”

 

Villanelle let out something like a half-laugh. “I really...don’t mind, Eve.”

 

The implication hung between them.

 

“Would you like to come home with me?” Eve finally broke the silence.

 

Villanelle’s mouth twitched to match her heart. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> this will be a quick little thing, trying to remember how to write again, endless thanks to any readers


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